Burdens
by Kaerith
Summary: Laguna and Seifer have a moment. Exploratory attempt at a 'Guna/Sei conversation. Just wanted to see how they'd get along.


**Burdens**

"You want me to what?"

"I want you to grant Seifer Almasy political asylum in Esthar."

I stared at Squall's image on the vidscreen. Recovering, I barked a terse, "No."

"Why not?" Squall gaze was intense and heated. I couldn't remember ever seeing him so worked up over anything before.

"Esthar has a bad history with sorceresses. There's no way that we're giving a Knight asylum!"

"Ex-Knight," my son corrected.

I waved away his protest. "Doesn't make any difference. Almasy aided Sorceress Ultimecia in her crimes against humanity. He released Adel. They kidnapped and brainwashed your girlfriend. They stole Lunatic Pandora, activated it, and caused the Lunar Cry-"

Squall cut me off. "I'll get a number of consultants to examine Seifer and I know that they will all conclude that he was forced to work for Ultimecia against his will."

"Aside from the obvious lack of any experts on Sorceress/Knight bonds, Squall, that wouldn't make any difference to the Estharian people."

Leonhart slammed a fist onto his desk. The violent action jolted me. Squall was never one to show any hints of his emotions. This was the second display of feeling that I'd witnessed in this single conversation.

"Dammit, Laguna! This is an opportunity for you to encourage your people to stop being so stubbornly afraid of anything to do with magic and sorceresses! Your efforts to open your borders and create international relations will fail if the Estharians don't get over their irrational fears!"

He was right. The Estharians' obsession with technology and rejection of magic were the two main stumbling blocks in opening the country. But I knew that Squall would never get this upset over politics. "What's this really about, son?"

It was obvious that he was about to deny that he had more personal reasons to demand that I give Almasy protection from Trabia and Galbadia, but then he reluctantly lowered his defenses.

"I saw Seifer yesterday. I promised him that I'd try to find some way to prevent him from being discovered and executed."

I narrowed my eyes. "You are the Commander of Balamb Garden. You found the most wanted criminal in the world and neglected to arrest him or inform anyone of his whereabouts?" I asked coolly.

"Dad…" That rarely used word fell from my son's lips as he looked pleadingly at me. For that moment he looked and sounded more like a frightened 8-year-old than an 18-year-old mercenary. "Please. You can't let them kill Seifer. I've known him for almost all of my life. He didn't have a choice in what Ultimecia made him do."

"From what Quistis Trepe and Xu Naora have told me, I thought you two were rivals."

Squall nodded slowly. "Yes. But we have a strange kind of trust. In some skewed way, Seifer's almost my best friend. He knows me better than anyone, and I guess I've picked up some insight into his mind as well."

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Squall, but I can't-"

Squall interrupted me. His eyes flashed and his voice was laden with hostility. "No, Laguna, you won't. You won't even consider the possibility that Seifer is as much of a victim of Ultimecia as Rinoa or Ellone. You have the same stupid biases that the Estharians have. You asked me to accept you as my father and I did. You also asked me to acknowledge that fact to the media, which I also did. I took an absence from my duties at Garden for a two-week-long promotional tour around both continents with you, and I did. This is the first thing I've asked you to do for me and you won't spend five seconds contemplating that I may be right. I've done a hell of a lot for you, especially considering the fact that I never cared about whether I had a father or not. As soon as something came up in our relationship that won't make for a good two-page human-interest spread in the newspaper, you immediately bail. I'm getting the impression that I'm just a convenient publicity prop and that all your assurances that you wanted to create a relationship with me were lies. If you expect me to choose between keeping your reputation clear of controversy and letting my friend die, you will lose. Seifer has never lied to me."

I was speechless. In one infuriated soliloquy, Squall had just said more words than I had heard him speak in the last several months combined. My mouth opened and closed, but I couldn't think of anything to say. Except…

"Fine."

---------------------------------------------------

Ward, Kiros, and I flew the Ragnarok to the meeting place, a clearing on the designated island of the Centra Archipelago. As the Rag touched ground, I stepped off the ramp and walked several paces away, looking around.

"You're Loire?" A deep voice seemed to come from right behind me. I nearly fell over as I stumbled to turn. A large blond kid in a grey trench coat stood just under the surrounding trees. I was surprised to see that he had a scar on his forehead that would precisely mirror my son's.

"Almasy?"

Frowning distrustfully, he nodded once.

I groped for something to say. He didn't seem to have any problem.

"I can definitely see the resemblance," the kid mused.

"Huh?"

He rolled his eyes. "Between you and Puberty Boy."

"Who?"

He sighed heavily. "Squall," he said, over-enunciating each sound as if he was speaking to an idiot.

"He looks much more like his mother than me," I pointed out.

Almasy snorted. "Either you're blind or you fucked your twin sister." I bristled, but he continued talking. "Same hair, same build, same shape of face." He started walking around me. I stood still and tried to ignore his scrutiny. I heard him whistle.

"What?!" I snapped, refusing to turn.

He let out a rather sinister chuckle. "He'd better be praying to Hyne that his ass looks as good as yours in twenty years. Impressive. You must work out, old man."

Though it was mostly eclipsed by anger and mortification, I felt a tiny prickle of pride. Ignoring it, I spun around. "What exactly is your relationship with my son?" I demanded.

He laughed. "I don't think you really wanna know, Pops. Galbadians tend to be very narrow minded."

I grit my teeth. It sounded like this bastard Knight was implying that….

He laughed again. "Kidding. He ain't like that. The one time I suggested it, it led to this." He pulled down one shoulder of his coat to reveal his left bicep. A line was barely visible. He traced the scar with one gloved finger. "I didn't press the issue an' never brought it up again." He shrugged his coat back on.

I was relieved. It's not like I'd be disgusted if Squall were gay—disappointed, of course, because I thought being a granddad would be fun. It was just the idea of my son being… defiled by this arrogant, irreverent, unpleasant person was enough to make me frustrated enough to throw cactuars at children.

"Seriously, though," he continued, "it's hard to explain. I don't understand our relationship myself. What did he say? I assume he told you something about me."

"He said you were the closest thing he has to a best friend. After meeting you, I wonder about the quality of the rest of the cadets at Balamb Garden, if you were the best prospect."

I expected him to get upset and retaliate. Instead, he laughed again. "Oh, man. Y'know, Leonhart has the same fire in him as you do. It's a shame that he's quiet. Sure, you can sense him thinking insults at you, but I like your style better."

"Your obvious talent of annoying people into shouting curses at you doesn't work with Squall?"

"Nope," he answered rather smugly. "The only reactions I get from him are glares and swipes from Revolver."

I was about to ask him why that seemed to be a matter of pride to him before I recalled Squall's usual cold and unaffected manner.

After a moment of silence, the blond spoke up again. "So where do you plan on takin' me?" He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

"Esthar."

"Should've guessed. Ain't never seen nuthin' like that before," he said, nodding to the spaceship.

I just grunted. "C'mon." I moved toward the ramp.

His voice stopped me. "This wasn't my idea, y'know."

I turned. He stood looking up at the Rag with an odd expression on his face. He seemed almost… vulnerable. "What?" I inquired. The inquiry seemed to be expected of me, and I was curious as to what had caused his mood swing.

His hands were still buried in his pockets and his shoulders were faintly hunched inwards. "Running. Hiding. I didn't want to do most of the things she made me do. But I did anyway. Whether I wanted to or not doesn't make any difference. I killed a lot of people, and it'd make a lot more people happier if I paid for my crimes."

"You want to be captured and executed?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I'd just like to get a punishment. Feel like I'm atoning for the stuff I did."

His sincerity was an unexpected switch from the confrontational demeanor he's presented only a minute ago. But I knew it was real. He avoided my eyes and acted like he was talking to himself or the ship or the sky. For a tiny moment I seemed to sense his burden of guilt. Even for that brief instant it was overwhelming. Tears came to my eyes as I realized the enormity of his remorse. Silently I walked back to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You're giving up your home, identity, and friends. You'll start a whole new life with the opportunity to rebuild some of what you've destroyed. The guilt will stay with you for the rest of your life. Consider this your penance."

For this moment he wasn't the Sorceress' Knight. He was Seifer Almasy, an eighteen-year-old boy who had been forced to cause more death and destruction in a few months than most people managed in their entire lives. He was just a lost and lonely kid as we walked onto the deck of the Ragnarok.


End file.
